Mouths Only Lying,
by BeastlyRedemption
Summary: Bella moves to Forks after her mom dies. She's breaking and nobody seems to be able to help her. That is, until she meets the Cullens. Bella / Rosalie.
1. get in, get out

**Hey guys. I did it again. I wrote another story without finishing the other one I was working on. This one is much more personal to me. I'm basically using Bella as my outlet about my mom dying. I know I sound pathetic and everything but I just need an outlet. This sucks, especially towards the end, but maybe if you guys want me to continue I will.**

* * *

" _But tell me you love this, tell me you're not miserable." - Richard Siken_

The wings of the airplane start to shake and it reminds her of a time when…

...

 _Everything is okay. Her mother is laughing, teeth showing, eyes glistening. She is happy today._

 _Bella stops and stares. Her mother turns, sees her looking, smiles wider and winks._

 _Bella screams with joy, runs at her with a laugh, tackles her with tickles._

 _Everything is okay. Everything is okay._

 _..._

"Ma'am? Would you like anything to drink?"

"No, thank you."

...

 _Everything is not okay._

" _Mom?" Her voice, scared, broken, catching in her throat. "Mom, Mom, what are you doing? Mom!"_

 _The glint of the gun, barrel against a temple. "I'm sorry. I love you."_

 _Then_

 _Then blood. Against the walls, carpet, against her shirt, dripping down her face._

" _Mom!"_

 _..._

"Flight attendants prepare the cabin for landing."

The wings are still shaking.

...

Forks hasn't changed.

The airport is still the same. Empty. The single lonely gift shop is bare, light flickering. Outside, it rains a sad rhythm against the windows. It sounds like a funeral song, all low chords and heartbreaking timing.

The red light of the baggage claim starts up, reflecting off of the people's faces, highlighting the lines of age, of despair. They all look how she feels.

And older man makes eye contact with her. His brows draw up in sympathy, like he knows, like he's seen death and war a million times, the birth and destruction of the universe at least a billion.

Bella furrows her eyebrows in deep thought. She wondered how people saw her. Did they see a teenage girl? Or did they see what she saw when she looked in the mirror?

The baggage claim grinds to a halt, smoke coming out of the side.

The people around her collectively sighs. Bella rakes her fingers through her hair.

Forks hasn't changed.

...

Charlie is waiting by his police cruiser when she finally manages to get out of the airport. He doesn't look at her, can't look at her.

He takes her bags, and opens the passenger side door for her. Doesn't look at her.

Bella catches a glimpse of herself in the rear view mirror. Her mom stares back at her, dead eyes, dead, dead, dead. Bella has to flinch away, suddenly realizing why Charlie can't look her in the face. She's a spitting image of a woman he lost; the pain has to be unbearable.

The drive is filled with silence. Every once in awhile she will see Charlie opening his mouth, obviously hoping to break the suffocating tension in the air, and then decides against it, shutting his mouth and furiously tapping a finger against the steering wheel.

The least she could do was end his misery. "The airport hasn't changed much."

Charlie's shoulders drop in relief. "No, not much in Forks changes, Bells," he chuckles a bit, moving his hand to nudge her shoulder playfully. "It's a little old boring town for old people like me."

She fights the frown threatening to cover her face, and instead tries to appear to be in a good mood. "The town for boring old people and gossip huh?"

"Oh you should hear it!" Charlie exclaims with a laugh. But talking to her hurts him. His jaw is clenched, trying to bite darkness out of his voice, he's breaking, he's breaking, he's breaking. His hands are tight around the wheel, so tight that the rubber squeaks. His face has claw marks on it. She wonders if his nightmares are anything like hers. "The gossip is so ridiculous now that I have to struggle to not laugh out loud every time I hear it! The things people come up with…" He trails off and shakes his head, another laugh falling out of his mouth. His body trembles, and he looks like he's trying to search for something

 _What are you looking for? Is it a bottle of whiskey you curl up to every night now?_

Bella grimaces. "Man, if adults are that bad then I'm scared about what the High school will be like."

Charlie nods. "Probably worse Bells… But you're a tough cookie, you can handle it." He places his hand on her arm and pats her reassuringly.

"If not then I can always get my Police Chief of a father to come and arrest them for spreading rumors about me, huh?"

"With me being your father I doubt anyone will want to even think about saying stuff about you." He puffs his chest out proudly, smiling happily. Still, an underlying current of pain laced his teeth.

They pulled up into the driveway. The house looks the same, a perfect picture of how it looked when she left.

Charlie takes the keys out of the ignition. "Home sweet home."

Bella breathes in, unbuckles, prepares herself for war.

...

Her room was as she left it. Memories of her, of how she used to be, smiling, happy, innocent.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, feeling the springs give under her weight. This house felt like a ghost to her, old and mourning, trying to erase who it once was. There weren't even pictures up around the house anymore. Her room seemed to be the only thing that Charlie left alone, the last remaining relic.

A knock sounded outside of her door. "Bella? I'm about to get dinner started. Do you have any requests?"

She toys with the idea of telling him she wasn't hungry. But that would only induce a state of worry.

"Maybe something light?" Bella asks, walking to open her door.

Charlie, surprised at the door suddenly opening, nods. "Maybe some salads? Is that okay?"

Bella manages a small smile, nods, "Yeah, that would be perfect Dad."

Charlie then leaves her alone to let her unpack.

The feeling - being alone- is one that is too familiar.

...

The grey, muted light is what wakes her the next morning. She listens carefully to what sounds like Charlie's cruiser leaving to go to work. Confused, the glances at the time. 4:25 stares back at her, the green lights mocking, almost.

The floor is cold against her feet when she finally musters up the courage to get out of bed. Her door creaks in harmony along with the ghosts in the walls. Oh, the things they've seen.

Upon turning the kitchen light on, she finds a note. It reads: "I've asked one of your old friends to take you to school today, if you're feeling up to going. I hope you like your surprise!"

Bella sets the paper down, a frown plastering over her face. She had forgotten about school.

She spends the next hour or so, trying to keep her eyes away from the sharp edges of the knives by staring out the window. In all honesty, she _doesn't_ feel well enough to go to school, but if she doesn't go today she never will.

At 5:45 she decides to get dressed.

At 6:30 she wonders when her "old friend" would show up.

She goes back to staring out the window, hands shaking.

...

The doorbell rings minutes later, startling Bella so much that she jumps and snaps her head to the door.

She rolls her eyes at herself, stands, and heads for the door.

One hand on the doorknob, the other raking through her hair, she opens the door - the sight wasn't one she was expecting.

A tall behemoth of a man stood outside her door. He flashed a grin, his hair cascading around his shoulders. "H-Hey, Bella. I don't know if you remember me but I'm Jacob Black?

Recognition falls over Bella's face. "Oh! No, no, of course I remember. We made mud pies together… Man you grew up, huh?"

He chuckles, the perfect picture of modesty. "A little."

Bella rocks back on her heels, and Jacob shifts his shoulders, and coughs to break the sudden awkward silence.

"Well, your Dad got you something…" And he hands her keys.

Bella stares blankly, clearly not understanding. "What?"

"They're for your truck."

"My what-" She starts to say, and she makes eye contact with _it._

 _It_ was a massive rusted red truck. Bella loves it immediately.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," Jacob chuckles. "I call her Betsy."

"Betsy." Bella breathes in awe. "Holy shit."

Jacob seems to blush. "I'm not sure if you love it … or if you absolutely hate it."

"No," Bella gasps, "God, no, I love it. I do."

"That's good, I was worried you wouldn't. I tried my best to restore it but…"

Bella nearly falls over herself. "You restored it?"

Jacob fidgets. "Well, yeah."

"Holy shit."

The sound of his warm laughter echoes off the trees. And, momentarily, Bella doesn't see red when she closes her eyes.

...

Jake, as he prefers to be called, is nice. His smile washes the clouds away and makes it easier to breathe. There's never an awkward silence - he's a perfect talker, always on and on about something relating to cars and motorcycles.

Bella doesn't mind the noise. It drowns out everything in her head.

"So," Jake shifts, his shoulder moving oddly around, trying to find a comfortable place for it. "You excited for Forks High?"

She scoffs, "about as excited I am for a parasite to enter my body."

"Jesus Christ!" Jake laughs, head thrown back, long hair cascading around his shoulder.

"What was your first day at Forks like?"

"Oh, I don't go."

Her heart dropped. "Oh… Why?"

"I live on the rez," he explained simply, noticing Bella's crestfallen face. "I'm sorry."

"No, no it's okay." She tries to smile. It looks like a grimace. She was hoping that maybe she would have one person she knew there with her.

"How are you getting back?"

He smiles and nudges her, trying to push the sun back into the cab of the car. "My buddy is picking me up."

It's silent the rest of the way.

...

She sits in her truck, head pressed against the back of the seat, breath labored, and hands gripped tight around the steering wheel.

"Get out of the car, get out of the car."

She takes another steadying breath.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."

...

" _Mom? Mom? Mom, I'm sorry I don't tell you I love you enough. Please don't be mad at me. Please don't go."_

" _Stop crying, Isabella. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry."_

" _I love you, I love you, I'm sorry."_

 _..._

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."

...

She drags herself out of the truck with bitten lips and chapped knuckles.

Rain splashes up and over her boots. She sighs, pulling her hood closer to her face.

Forks hasn't changed.

Inside the school almost has the same greyness as it does outside. The school secretary watches her come in, watery brown eyes and a sad, sad smile.

"A little late, Ms. Swan but that's okay. Here's your schedule."

"Thank you, ma'am."

...

 _They know._

"Didn't her mom like…die?"

"Yeah! That's what my mom said!"

 _They know, they know. My fault, my fault, my fault._

"Isabella?" A girl, dark hair, and dark eyes that could tell a thousand sad stories, probably has Othello memorized, taps her on the shoulder to get her attention. "Um, My name is Angela. We have APUSH together first period?" She fiddles a bit with her pencil. "Um, anyway I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with me and my other friends?"

Bella gawks at her.

Angela blushes immediately. "I… I just thought that maybe you would like to sit with us so you wouldn't have to sit alone?"

Bella rakes her hand through her hair. "I don't want to intrude."

Angela surprises her with a smile, _a sad, sad smile_ , and offers her hand. "I promise you aren't, Isabella. Please come sit with us?"

Bella gets up, stands, her lungs filled with dust and death and everything bad she's ever had to endure. With all of that, she walks, walks towards fate or doom.

...

"I'm Jessica."

"Hi! I'm Mike."

"Eric."

They look at her like a wild animal. They move slowly around her, as if scared if they move too quickly that they might set off a bomb. Only one of them offers her an hand and the touch is so soft that she doesn't feel it.

Their mouths are wide when they talk, eyes always on her, voices calm and quiet.

They're trying to see if she's going to break.

"Why'd you move here, Bella?" Angela asks quietly. The question almost doesn't make it over the noise of the cafeteria.

"I wanted to see my Dad." It's not a lie, not completely.

They narrow their eyes like it is. Jessica's mouth twitches, subtly she sees Mike elbow her in the ribs. A " _don't say anything"_ , a " _god you're going to set her off; she's dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, don't you see the shake in her hand? Don't you?_ "

"Look, Jessica." Angela snorts. "Here come your boyfriend."

The cafeteria grows silent, a cloud of unease settles over the students, making the air thick and hot. She can practically smell the fear.

Bella sees who Angela is talking about. There's five of them. Beautiful, dark.

"Oh look," Jessica huffs. "Bella is enamored too - well, new girl, They are all together, and Edward doesn't date so don't even try."

Bella can't open her mouth. It's glued shut.

"Don't mind her," Angela rubs Bella's back gently. "She's just mad because Edward won't date her. Those are the Cullens."

Bella turns towards her, not understanding, but her shoulders are tight and her head hurts and she wants to go home and sleep and never wake up.

"Edward is the one with the reddish- brown hair." Angela points him out.

Edward is lanky, eyes forlorn and tortured, he moves like he's always on the defensive. He's powerful. He makes Bella's hands shake.

"Jasper is the blonde guy," Angela tilts her head, trying not to eye Bella's face but does anyway.

Jasper is taller and more muscular, but rigid and stiff. His arms are carefully wrapped around the pixie like girl, who is small and thin but is the epitome of Newton's first law. He doesn't blink, doesn't breathe, and doesn't move. If she were mistaken, she would have thought he was a statue.

"He's… intense. Anyway the girl he's cuddled up with is Alice." Angela explains. "She's actually really nice, and I wish people would realize that."

One of them resembles a bear, thick muscles twisting and flexing under his skin, and his teeth are too sharp and his laugh is too loud.

Angela sees her looking. "Emmett, he's nice too I guess. Similar to Alice. He's helped me out a lot when I travel for AcaDeca. He once just did my homework for me."

"And the last one is..?"

"Rosalie."

At the mention of her name, her head swivels, eyes the color of gold bore into her, ripping a hole through her, leaving her gasping. She's beautiful: long curly blonde hair, statuesque. Like a goddess herself coming to visit Earth.

Bella looks away, looks away before she can start to hyperventilate. "They are all very attractive."

Jessica laughs, snooping in on the conversation between Angela and Bella. "You should see their foster parents."

Bella risks a glance over.

They are all glaring at her.

Bella's body starts to shake. She fumbles with her keys, hands shaking and eyes blurring.

...

" _Mom?"_

" _I'm sorry. I love you."_

...

She drives home with sobs finding their way through her clenched teeth and she stops on the side of the road to vomit once.

She really, really didn't feel well enough to go to school today.


	2. you are my sunshine

**This sucks and I'm so sorry god. I just felt bad that I left this for months. This chapter doesn't even clear a thousand words and it's just a filler but I'm sorry. Next chapter will be better I promise.**

* * *

" _I just want to go home, said the astronaut_

 _So come home, said ground control_

 _so come home, said the voice from the stars."_

Charlie finds her hours later in her room under the covers. It's dark, he has to squint to see the outline of her.

"Bells?"

A grunt is the response he gets back.

"Bella… The school called me, they said you skipped some of your classes."

Bella's hands start to shake. All she sees is red, red, red. Her hands are caked in it. She's drowning and drowning and she never learned to swim.

She spent the afternoon trying to remember what her mother's laugh sounded like.

All she heard were screams and gunshots.

She shakes under the covers, claws at her face

 _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._

 _Don't you dare cry._

She's forming her mouth into a lie when she says "I threw up at school. I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you."

He doesn't believe it, not for an instant. Because he can smell the fire too, he can smell the smoke and he's also forgotten how her laugh sounds. But it hurts. It hurts him.

 _She's_ present in this room. Not Bella. This is not Bella. This is Renée and her pain, and blood, and blood.

So he leaves the room, wide eyes, hands reaching for a whiskey bottle.

And Bella is left alone, red coming from her lip, becoming a scribble of a person, undefined. She invites the walls, they come nearer, and they whisper to her about the things they've seen.

They moan _pain, pain._

She thinks about things that can burn the house down. Thinks about things that can hurt her. Wishes for the pain. Wishes for the smoke.

 _Is there anything left of me? Or am I this human mess?_

…

The world spins on its axis too quickly. It makes Bella sick with vertigo. Her breath comes out ragged, beats to a four four timing of tragedy and misery.

She's in english class. There are three of them in the corner. She feels their eyes.

She doesn't dare look.

"Bella?" Angela whispers softly, softly, softly. "You're not breathing - are you okay? Take a deep breath, you're going to be okay."

The warmth of Angela's hand is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Look," Angela sighs, "it's raining again."

Bella chokes on a laugh. It's always been raining - it never stops.

She feels their eyes on her.

She doesn't dare look.

"I'm worried that it'll never be warm again."

…

Angela stays next to her all day. Whispers low and quiet in her ear. Comforting.

Bella notices the sleeves covering her arms, how she self- consciously tugs them down periodically.

She's hurting too. She's breaking too.

"I'm here, Bella. I'm here." Angela whispers after something is too loud, after someone drops their books. Bella's shaking. "I'm here."

She wants to hide away from Angela. She's too nice and generous and Bella doesn't deserve that.

"Bella," Angela rubs her back, slides her a piece of paper. "This is my number. Will you please text me if you ever need someone to talk to? You're my only friend. I just want to know how you are doing."

"Thank you," Bella whispers, eyes tearing up. She didn't deserve this. Angela didn't have to do this.

Angela nods, tugs her sleeves down again.

"You, um, " Bella stutters, blinks the tears in her eyes away. "You can always text me, too."

Angela's teeth look like barbed wire when she smiles back at her.

…

Bella sits, trying to coax the air back into her lungs, trying to convince herself that she isn't in ruins. That she is fine, fine, fine. That her hands don't shake.

Bella sits, head between her hands. She waits for class to start.

She has art this period, this is one of the classes she skipped yesterday so she doesn't know what to expect.

A chair moves beside her.

"Hello," a bell like voice starts, calmly. "I'm Alice Cullen."

Bella yanks her head up, breath catching in her throat. She stares speechless, mouth opening and closing.

A small small flickers to Alice's face. "You weren't here yesterday, but we are table partners. Mr. Anderson still thinks of us as children and assigns seats." She explained as she carefully sat, meticulously arranging her supplies.

Bella finds her voice. "I'm sorry."

Alice tilts her head. "Dear girl, what ever could you be sorry for?"

Bella shrugs, flipping a pencil in between her fingers, desperately hoping to find a topic of conversation. "Do you like art?"

Alice's eyes widen in surprise.

Bella winces, shifting her weight far, far away from Alice. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong…"

"Oh!" Alice snaps out of her thoughts. "Oh no, you didn't! I was just taken aback. You see, not very many people are willing to start a conversation with my siblings and myself." Alice hurriedly explains, "They don't think we are too friendly."

Bella thinks back to the day before. Thinks about how their glares sent her whimpering home like a kicked dog. She decided not to comment on that.

Bella's brow furrows, picks at her sleeves and tries again. "Do you? Like art I mean."

Alice takes her time picking and choosing the words she wants. "I can… appreciate art. However, I'm not as interested in it as some of my other siblings are."

Bella nods and looks away. She wished Angela was here, she would know what to do. How to talk. How to be human.

 _How pathetic…_

Bella puts her head in her shaky hands.

She knows, she knows it's pathetic to already be so reliant on someone. She knows.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice Cullen opens her mouth, and closes it again.

…

Blood drips from her thighs, breaths come out in harsh gasps.

"Everything's a mess." Bella laughs. Her reflection mimics her, a cruel smile curling.

"I still love you mom." Blood now falls into the sink.

"Even with your hands around my neck."

…

Bella sees Angela tug her sleeves down.

"You didn't text me," Bella frowns, glancing up under her eyelashes. Now, she knows she isn't being fair, knows that under her sleeves there are wounds threatening to break open with every heartbeat.

Guilt flashes across her face. "I'm sorry." Angela adjusts her glasses. "I just didn't want to bother you."

"I'm not ever busy." Bella hesitates. "How bad are they?"

"They aren't ever bad enough to draw attention - I have a cat, I usually blame it on him."

Bella smiles sadly. "Please, if you feel comfortable enough, please text me next time you feel like it."

"Thank you, Bella." Angela picks at her food. "Maybe… Maybe do you want to hang out this weekend? I heard Wonder Woman was really good."

"I'd love to." Bella grins, lopsided and bright. "God, buttery popcorn sounds amazing right now."

"Thank you, Bella." Angela reaches across the table, "for everything."

She nods, and for a moment, she doesn't feel the burn in her lungs or the sting on her arms.


	3. shutout

**So I think this is the worst chapter by far, and I'll try and write a longer chapter next time. But I decided to make a tumblr specifically for my writing updates and to let you guys know when I would be updating my stories and when I start to work on them. Its the same name just with a dash between beastly and redemption if any of you are interested. Anyway, sorry for this but it provides a little insight on Bella's past.**

* * *

" _Golden child,_

 _Lion boy;_

 _Tell me what it's like to conquer._

 _Fearless child_

 _Broken boy;_

 _Tell me what it's like to burn_

 _Oh darling, even Rome fell" - Madzie-Bane (via Tumblr)_

They move her to gym the next week.

Bella looks at her without understanding. "No, I already took my gym credits."

"Oh, honey." The secretary smiles at her. "Forks has a four year gym program!"

…

Her shoes squeak against the floor as Coach Clapp talks to her about gym lockers.

She blocks him out, watching how his hands reaches in a bucket to give her a lock.

He stalls, head flicking the the direction of the open gym door.

The Cullens walk in, displeasure clear on their face. Obviously they had been moved here, too.

Bella looks away and frowns. "Coach?" She calls. His mouth is open, staring at undoubtedly one of the Cullens.

She sighs, rolls her shoulders back, irritation coating her limbs. She risks another glance.

Three of the five Cullens are glaring at her, strong jaws and taut muscles remind her of death. The big male, Emmett is smiling at her, and Alice waves.

Bella bites her lip, and waves back, keeping her gaze solely on Alice. Ignores the glares and hisses.

 _It's going to be a long semester._

…

"Alright kids!" Coach Clapp yells, scratching at his beard. "We are gonna play soccer today!"

Bella groans under her breath. This was something she wish she could have left back in Arizona.

She used to play.

Her mother used to play, too.

She sighs, brings a hand to her hair and rakes it back into a ponytail.

He splits them up into teams by numbers. Bella's shoes rub anxiously against the floor. All five are on the same team, and the one called Edward cocks his head at her.

He watches her hands shake.

"Bella," a kid comes up to her, "you alright with playing center?"

She remembers her cleats pulling up grass, the dull thud of pain against her shins, the hot sun. "Yeah."

Coach places the ball in the middle, motioning for two players to come and start the game. A boy in her calculus class is opposite from her, knees to thin, and glasses too large.

Oh, she does feel sorry.

Coach Clapp blows the whistle and suddenly she's back in shorts and itchy knee high socks.

She fakes a kick to the right, waits for the boy to take the bait, and kicks it behind her, making sure the short-haired girl catches it with her foot. Bella runs ahead, keeping her eyes on the ball, juking left and right.

"I'm open! I'm open!" She calls, adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream. The ball skids to her, she dribbles it away from a clumsy baseball player. She's too near the goal. They're getting worried she'll score.

She makes it past the last line of defense, taking a kick to the knee.

A blocky boy is the goalie, and he's out of his depth. He doesn't look like he's ever played soccer before, much less a sport. She should go easy, give him a break.

She pulls the best hat trick she knows.

He comes and meets her at the top of the goalie box. Bella sprints forward, looking like she was about to kick it into the corner of the net. Instead she kicks it behind her, flicking it up in a rainbow over her head.

It reaches the top of the net, and falls in enough to be considered a goal.

The world falls silent in one moment, heartbeats tangible the next. Bella's peers are bent at the knees, running their hands through their hair.

The person she ends up next to is the tall blonde. Rosalie.

She stares at Bella in a way that makes her bite her tongue.

Hastily, she steps away, an "I'm sorry," spilling out of her mouth. Rosalie still stares and Bella ducks her head and walks away, readying herself to play.

Coach Clapp startles her from behind. "Bella! I have to talk to you!"

…

She goes home later that night, exhaustion in her bones.

"I'm home," Bella sighs, kicking her shoes off. Silence greets her back, the walls groan in welcome.

"Gym went well," she says, only noticing now that the police car is absent from the driveway. "Coach Clapp told me that he needed me to try out for the girl's soccer team."

She stands in an empty living room, save for three bottles of whiskey on the coffee table.

"I don't want to," she hugs herself, "I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to."

"I don't want to be like her anymore."

…

She awakes to white walls and grey skies. Something that is becoming familiar to her.

In truth she's alone most days now. Charlie is too busy drowning himself in work that sometimes Bella wonders of Charlie knows he has a daughter.

She's pretty sure he thinks of her as a horrible curse, a ghost to haunt him.

Bella wishes that he was home. She hasn't seen him in three days.

She glares into the mirror, glares at her despair, glares at the scars on her arms and thighs, glares at how her bones shake under her skin. The blood on her hands, the blood, the blood, the blood-

She presses a hand to her mouth and screams.

…

"You played well yesterday." Alice whispers, watching Bella's hand shade and correct. "I think you took everybody by surprise."

Bella shrugs shoulders that weigh a thousand pounds. "I used to play varsity back at my old school."

"Do you miss it?"

Bella thinks back. Remembers scoring the winning goal, looking into the stands and not seeing anybody she could call important there to support her. She remembers standing in the doorway of her house, her mouth forming a word that hurts for her to even think about now. She remembers her mother, holding a gun in her hand, against her head.

She remembers the blood, the pink mist coming out the back of her mother's head. She remembers how she was still screaming three days after.

"No," Bella digs her nails deep into the skin of her arm, willing the tears to go away. "No, I don't miss it."


	4. i have loved the stars

**Longer chapter. Let me know what you think.**

* * *

" _Do not envy the stars, my love_

 _Do not envy their cold, empty sky._

 _Don't you know why the stars fall?_

 _They hurl themselves from the heavens,_

 _For just glimpse of our humanity." - C.K._

…

Things get worse.

Angela sits with her at lunch, keeps her voice low and soft, mouth hardly moving. Bella nods along with things she says, watching her hands move with her voice.

She's picking at her food, flicking limp lettuce away when she hears it.

A loud sob erupts from behind her, and then multiple people joined in on the hysterical crying. Bella jumps, seeking the source of the heart clenching sobs.

"Bella?" Angela touches her shoulder, and Bella startles in the process, heart stuttering. "Bella, what's wrong?"

Bella stares, eyebrows upturned, mouth trembling. "Someone is crying."

"Who, Bella?"

She swivels in her chair and finds the people who are crying. She points them out to Angela.

Angela looks at them, sighs, and moves closer to Bella. "Hey, it's okay, you're okay. They're not crying. They're laughing. Look at their smiles."

"Laughing? I don't understand, it sounded like crying to me. I don't understand. I don't understand."

As she turns back around in her chair, she looks at the Cullen's table.

The one called Jasper is looking at her with a mixture of surprise and extreme concern. Alice glances at Bella periodically, but tugs on Jasper's sleeve to get his attention, looks like questions are falling out of her mouth.

Edward tugs at his hair, and glares at her in never ending frustration.

Emmett is the face of sadness. But Rosalie… Rosalie is looking at her with pain and helplessness, concern dipping the edges of her mouth.

Bella flinches away.

Angela whispers, "The Cullens are staring at you."

Bella voice is shaky when she responds. "C-Can we go to class please?"

…

Things get worse.

She finds herself sprinting through hospital doors, panicked eyes and red cheeks.

Twelve minutes ago she received a phone call. The monotonous voice told her that Charlie was in the hospital, suffering from a gunshot wound.

She pushes through a door, ignoring the hands gripping at her.

Inside, the first thing she sees is Charlie. Wires coming out of his skin and IVs around him. The heart rate monitor beeps calmly, evenly.

She doesn't notice that the entire Cullen family is present.

People burst in, grab her by the arms and start to escort her out of the room.

Fury fills her voice as Bella turns around, slamming a foot into one person's stomach. "If you try to take me out of here I will _fucking kill you._ "

"Hey," A doctor approaches, his hands up. His beauty is something familiar. "Let's take it easy." He helps the man off the floor and turns his gaze to the one that still holds Bella's arm. "I seem to recall that this hospital has a policy that allows family members to visit at all times." He pauses. "Unless I'm wrong. I'm only the doctor here after all."

The man starts to stutter, the grip on Bella dissipating. "I didn't realize that she was family, sir."

The doctor nods. "His daughter."

The men leave without a fuss after that.

"I apologize." The doctor turns to her and holds out a hand. "I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen. I believe you attend Forks high with my children."

Bella had only just now become aware of them. Except another woman was present. Caramel hair, heart shaped face, and a welcoming smile feels like home to her. And it's the biggest lie she's been told.

She can't help but smile back at the woman anyway.

"I'm Esme, dear." Instead of a handshake, she brings Bella into a hug.

"It's nice to meet you." In the same breath she glances back at her dad. "What happened..?"

"An arrest gone wrong. The bullet missed anything serious. But I will have to keep him in the hospital for a couple more days to make sure he's stable." Dr. Cullen sighs.

Charlie's heart rate echos throughout the room.

"He'll be okay, Bella." Alice simpers with a wink.

"Okay." Bella nods, breathes. He's alive, he's alive, he's alive.

She thinks of an older woman, gun smoke, and blood, and blood, and blood.

He's alive. He's alive. He's alive.

"Okay," Bella sighs, "thank you, Doctor."

…

"I don't trust her."

"Well," Carlisle shifts in his chair. "Has she given you any reason to not trust her? As far as I know, the only thing you all have done is glare at her."

Esme, in turn, glares at her children. "I hope you're all ashamed of yourselves. Being mean to a nice girl like that. Poor dear, her mother is gone, clearly she is still suffering."

Alice protests almost immediately. "I'm her friend! We have the same art class together. I've never been mean to her." She flicks her gaze to her siblings and her lover. "These jackasses on the other hand…"

"Language, Alice!"

Edward rolls his eyes. "I don't trust her. She has something up her sleeve. For example, she's seemingly this clumsy little human but pulls a trick shot and scores within five seconds of starting the game?"

Rosalie cocks an eyebrow, hopefully looking more bored than intrigued. She's irritated by this discussion. The best course of action is to leave Bella alone. Not try to eliminate her like Edward is implying.

"You think we should kill her based on her soccer skills?" Alice seethes, teeth bared, jaw clenched in a way that promises the removal of Edward's head.

Why _shouldn't_ Alice be like that? Rosalie picks idly at the fabric of the table cloth. Bella was destined to be one of Alice's best friends.

She refuses to think about what else Bella was destined to be.

"Alice!" Edwards shouts, hair expressing his exasperation. "I can't read her mind! If she finds out about us and the Volturi gets wind of it, we will all die!"

Alice stands, too. Defensive. "If you kill her this family loses two of their family members." She glances at Rosalie and gestures to herself. Rosalie bites back her disagreements. After all, how could she argue against the future?

"Three." Jasper mutters. Unfolding from his position on the couch. "I don't believe I could be apart of this family anymore."

Everyone stares at him in shock. They had all assumed he was down for the murder of Isabella Swan.

"I will not be apart of my wife's or my sister's unhappiness." His face turns sober, scars reflecting his sorrow. "This girl is _suffering_."

"Yes," Emmett agrees, eyebrows furrowed. "Her mother died."

"I don't think it's just that. I think it's something else." Jasper starts to pace unintentionally. "You all remember how she told Angela that people were crying."

Edward tilts his head, following along with Jasper's thoughts.

He continues. " She had mistaken laughter as crying. When that usually happens, that means the brain has undergone some kind of trauma. It's a symptom of PTSD. Her brain is in a constant state of fight or flight, and it presents itself in different ways. I wouldn't be surprised if she's been having constant nightmares. That happens because her brain can't file away whatever she's seen into a folder. It's too much for her brain to process."

Rosalie sits up, dread in her chest. "What could have happened?" She thinks about Rochester. Thinks about the cold granite under her fingers, the warm stick of blood tangled in her hair. Thinks about the buckling of belts and the slurred laughter as she lays dying.

Jasper locks eyes with her, knows exactly what she's thinking about when Edward flinches away from Rosalie. "It could be anything."

A small part inside Rosalie feels … something. Something that feels like the sun breaking through the clouds. Something that makes her want to rip out her heart and present it, saying " _Here, it's not pretty. It's a fixer-upper. Here. Take it. Please."_

"Poor girl. Esme puts her hand to her mouth. She claps. "Okay! It's been decided! Bella is not dying. And if any of you attempt to kill her you will also have to kill me." Esme's smile is a little too sharp to be presented as a nice, loving, smile. She presses a kiss to Carlisle's head and walks away.

"Well," Emmett laughs, curls tousled. " I guess that settles it."

. . .

Bella awakes to white walls and grey skies. Except this time, she's not alone.

The smell of burning toast wafts to her nose.

"What..?"

Bella sprints down stairs, worrying about what kind of intruder busts into people's houses and burns breakfast.

"Bella!" Alice smiles, hoping off the counter with a soft grin. "How did you sleep?" She asks in a voice that makes it seem like she knew exactly how horrible Bella slept. Blood was still present on the edge of her tongue.

"How-" Bella snaps her head to the other figure present in the room. Esme. "How did you get into my home?"

"Charlie gave us permission to watch after you while he is forced to stay in the hospital, dear." Esme comes over, greets Bella with a hug that brings tears to her eyes.

"Oh… Esme you really didn't have to make me breakfast." Bella looks at the egg sandwich placed in the center of a plate. "But thank you so much."

Esme pats her back, rubbing soothing circles there. "Oh, of course dear."

…

She gets to visit Charlie in the hospital the next day.

He's groggy, and of course in pain. He winces every time he takes a breath.

She waits by his bedside table.

He opens his eyes. "Renée?"

Bile rises up her throat, blood coming from her clenches teeth. Her stomach churns and aches. "No. It's Bella."

…

Almost everyday the Cullens stop by, and by now she's gotten at least a little used to their pale skin and glittering ocher eyes. Though, sometimes, and particularly on Jasper, she notices the color of onyx spreading through their iris.

One day she wakes up. And it's not Esme or Alice who is there, it's her. It's Rosalie.

"Hello," Rosalie stands when Bella comes downstairs, her voice warm vanilla, sounding like euphoria against her ears. "I'm not sure I properly introduced myself. I'm Rosalie Hale." She doesn't offer a hand but Bella is _fine_ with that. There she was, bedhead galore and unbrushed teeth.

She looks like an uncooked McDonald's patty next to a three hundred dollar sirloin.

Bella blushes, and then kicks herself for doing so, especially when Rosalie eyes the blooming color in her cheeks. "H-Hi. I'm Bella."

A soft smile, and then "I'm sorry Esme or Alice couldn't be here today. Alice insisted that she needed new clothes and the pair traveled to Seattle for the weekend." Rosalie turns to look out the window, golden hair falling over her shoulders.

Bella wishes she could see it in the sun.

"I insisted that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself but they made me promise to at least check up on you."

"I-I don't mind." Bella plays with the bracelet on her hand, embarrassed once again. Obviously Rosalie doesn't want anything to do with her. "But I'm sorry I burdened you. You can leave if you'd like."

Startled Rosalie whips around, a disbelieving expression clear on her face. She opens her mouth to say something, but pauses when she seems to notice the tears starting to well in Bella's eyes.

Bella flinches away. Sometimes she doesn't even know that she's started to cry.

Rosalie is quiet for a moment, a look of confusion and concern is present ever so slightly on her face. "No," she finally mumbles, "I don't want to leave. Besides, Esme claims you don't know how to cook."

Bella considers protesting. "I can cook…"

A graceful snort. "What? Cereal?"

Bella pouts, looking at the blonde from underneath her eyelashes.

Rosalie's face falls blank for a moment, and then suddenly snaps out, shaking her head as she walks into the kitchen. "I'll make you a grilled cheese."

"Will you be eating?" Bella stumbles after her.

"No."

"How come I've never seen you guys eat?" Bella wonders, trying her best to help Rosalie with locating ingredients. "Even in school… you buy food but don't ever eat it."

From behind, it looks as though Rosalie completely freezes. "My family has a special diet." Long gone is the beautiful, careful voice she had just moments earlier. Now it's a sharp tone all around, and it cuts Bella to the core. "It's easier to avoid questions."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

Rosalie rolls her shoulder back, relaxing the tiniest bit. "It's quite alright."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that.

For once, later that night, Bella sleeps free of nightmares. Instead she dreams of blonde hair and gold eyes that once were blue.


	5. and i have loved her

**When will God murder me?**

 **Also Bella stutters and it's canon : )**

* * *

" _I want you to always remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?" - Haruki Murakami_

 _..._

"How was breakfast with Bella?"

Rosalie puts down the book she was reading and makes room for the black haired Pixie invading her room.

Rosalie groans internally. She was having such a nice day, sun beating through her windows, heating up her skin. She wasn't ready to be interrogated.

"Fine." Then Rosalie frowns. "There was a tense moment though. She realized that we don't eat food. I feel bad for snapping at her." Rosalie shrugs, the perfectly carved image of nonchalance.

"She's observant." Alice agrees with a somber face. "Although, seriously nobody is going to think, "hey, you know what? Those people are different, they must be vampires." You know, Rose?"

"Watch Bella do _exactly_ that."

Alice snorts. "She finds out, but I don't think on her own violation."

Rosalie tilts her head. "You don't know?"

"No. And it's so frustrating!"

Fingers drum on her sides for a moment and then, "who are you thinking tells her?"

"Nobody in this family." Alice is sure of it.

"You're thinking of the wolves." Rosalie hisses. "That's breaking the treaty!"

Alice sits for a long time, long enough for the sun to shift positions in the sky. If Rosalie listens enough, she can hear Forks High ring the end of the school day bells. She hopes Bella did okay by herself. Nobody told her they would all be absent today.

"I guess we will have to see…"

Rosalie sits, tortured. "Is there no way to stop this? No way for us to leave her alone?"

Alice glares at her. "I understand that you hate yourself. I do. But honestly you need to suck it up. You will be happy. And I will have a best friend."

Rosalie often grows tired of this argument.

"Alice." Rosalie huffs. "I - I don't know if I even like girls!"

She grew up in the 1930s, the thought of a man and a child has always been ingrained in her head.

"Some parts of you know you do." And if Rosalie could blush, she would. She remembers smoldering eyes under dark eyelashes, full lips turned into a pout.

It had taken her aback for sure.

Still, she continues to argue. "Are we sure she isn't Edward's intended?"

Alice nods, a slight roll to her eyes. "Yes, and I don't know what their relationship will be like in the future."

Rosalie hums, sunlight spilling off of her skin like water reflecting the sun.

…

They find her eight miles away from her home at three in the morning.

They hear sirens on the highway. And it's odd, nothing really calls for an emergency at three in the morning. However, they don't take note of it.

Until, Alice gets a vision.

Jasper holds her arms steady while Rosalie frowns in concern. Edward, listening in, freezes his piano melody.

"Bella." Alice gasps, and it's all it takes for Rosalie not to fall to her knees.

…

She's eight miles away from home and wearing shorts that don't cover up the scars on her thighs.

Esme muffles a tortured sob behind her hands.

They reach her thirty minutes before the police do.

Bella, body illuminated by the street lights and snow falling, turns toward them, eyes closed but rapidly flickering, She raises two fingers and presses them to her head.

It takes a moment for Rosalie to realize what it is.

She's formed a gun with her hand.

Bella presses her fingers to her head in a mock gun shape, mouth muttering something, something that looks like, "I'm sorry." Bella flicks her thumbs down, symbolizing a gunshot, and her body starts to go limp.

Rosalie catches her, teeth clenched, shakiness in her limbs. "Oh my god."

Jasper is on his knees gasping, clutching at his chest. Alice tries helping him up but she's sobbing too much.

Red and Blue flashes against Rosalie's face. How she must have looked, holding a limp body underneath a singular street light.

"Dr. Cullen?"

…

Carlisle stays behind, lying on his feet to the police about why they hadn't called the cops when they found Bella and why they were there in the first place.

"We were watching her for Charlie," Rosalie thinks he'll say. "I just fell asleep, the cold breeze of the door being open woke me up."

She holds Bella in her lap, hair wet with the tears the brunette was shedding in her sleep.

The air inside the Volvo is tense, and suddenly they are all thinking about their pasts, about their ends. They're thinking about the blood, the blood and horror.

They're all thinking about Bella, too, and how life implies death.

…

She awakes like fury and self-loathing. Smells like despair and desolation.

Her shorts don't cover the scars on her thigh.

Her shirt doesn't cover the scars on her arm.

Her skin doesn't cover the scars on her heart.

"What the fuck." Bella groans, heart shooting into double time as she realizes she's not in a place she recognizes.

Rosalie moves to go comfort her, but Carlisle stops her, and she understands immediately why.

Rosalie aches to make Bella feel better. But Carlisle is a doctor for a reason.

Bella stares at him in confusion, questions as clear as day in her eyes.

"You were sleepwalking," Carlisle says, picking up the blanket Bella tossed off the couch. "We found you eight miles from your home." Bella is now realizing the scars on her. She pulls the blanket up to her chin and shivers. " The police got a call from somebody in your neighborhood. Said it was snowing and you were walking with your eyes closed."

Bella starts to shake. Looks around and locks eyes with Rosalie. She flinches away, ashamed and Rosalie has never wanted to die so badly before.

"You're safe." He continues, voice soft and slow. It reminds Rosalie of Angela. Angela and her soft touches and slow smiles.

For the first time in her life, Rosalie stews in jealousy.

"We brought you to our home," Bella starts to nod in understanding, eyes flickering with exhaustion.

Edward comes up behind her, frustration threaded into his hair. "I wish I knew what she's thinking."

Rosalie watches as Bella falls back asleep, twitching and mouth tightening.

"Yeah," Rosalie nods at Carlisle, "Thank you," she says as he passes her and gives her a kiss on her head. "Me too, Edward."

…

Esme sits with Rosalie on the piano bench, watching as long slender fingers poke out a song.

It's two in the afternoon and Bella still lays sleeping.

"What do you think happened?" Esme whispers, as if scared she'll invite ghosts if she speaks louder.

It's all Rosalie has been wondering. "I don't know." She hears herself say these words, but doesn't feel her mouth moving.

She thinks of cold air, musty streets and the smell of alcohol. She thinks of blood, of blood, of blood.

"I don't know."

…

She wakes up.

She wakes up to sore feet, and sweaty skin sticking to a leather couch.

She hears a melancholy melody playing somewhere in the distance. She hears it stop.

The house she's in is large, white walls and wooden floors.

The remembers last night. Carlisle's lips moving. "You're safe."

Some parts of her don't believe it.

She finds a grey t-shirt and sweatpants on the edge of the couch. They smell like vanilla and roses. A scent she's had in her head for _days_. She immediately blushes when she realizes who the scent belongs too. But she puts them on. Worried about how much of the scars they've seen littering her body.

"Hello, dear." Esme smiles, coming down the stairs.

"H-Hi," Bella smiles, but it feels more like a grimace. She sees the worry hidden in Esme's face. "I'm so s-s-sorry."

Esme wraps her in a hug, feels the cold skin like granite against her exposed arms, but leans in anyway.

"You had us all worried - but you don't need to be sorry."

"Why-" Bella wipes her face. "Why do you all care so much?"

Esme takes Bella's face in her hands, brushes back her hair. Her face is so open and caring that it makes Bella's body shake with tears she's been trying to hold back. "Everybody needs a little help. That's how we all found each other, you know?"

…

Esme gives Bella a tour of the house.

"Here's Carlisle's study room."

"Here's Alice's and Jasper's room."

She leds Bella up a flight of stairs, taking her down a hallway with one door.

"And-" she opens the room. "Here is Rosalie's room." Vanilla and roses hit her at once. But what surprises her is the baby blue walls and white Grand piano in the corner.

Bella gasps. "I didn't know she played."

Esme nods. "Wonderfully."

Books a mile high litter the floor in an organized fashion. Bella takes note of books she's also read.

There's a chair next to a window that substitutes for a wall.

"Is she in here often?"

"Yes," Esme says. And Bella eyes the english paper they had all been tasked to write. Of course, Bella hadn't written one.

In the corner of her eye, she sees Esme tilt her head, as if she's trying to listen to someone.

"Come, Rosalie made you breakfast."

"O-Oh she didn't have to."

Esme's warm chuckle sounds behind her as she leads Bella up another flight of stairs. "She mentioned that you were particularly fond of sandwiches."

Bella blushes.

It seems that an entire floor is made up of the kitchen. And in it Rosalie is concentrated on making a sandwich. She finishes just as Bella and Esme wander in.

"Good morning." Rosalie tosses her a good natured grin. She listens in interest as Bella's heart speeds up.

Rosalie refuses to acknowledge how good Bella looks in her clothes.

"Did you sleep well?" Rosalie slides the plate towards her, watches as Bella takes a hungry bite.

The brunette nods, mouth full of cheese and turkey. She frowns and places it back on the plate.

Before the blonde gets a chance to inquire about the sandwich quality, Bella speaks. "I'm so, so, so sorry you had to witness last night."

Esme stiffens beside her.

"Hey," Rosalie whispers softly, ducking her head to try to catch Bella's eye. "We're just glad we found you before you got hurt."

"I-I don't normally sleep walk." Bella explains, putting her hands in her lap. "I-I-I'm sorry."

Esme comes around the table and wraps her arms around Bella's center.

"It's okay. It's okay. You're safe. You're safe."


	6. open wounds

**Hey so I'm super lame but here's another shitty chapter but this time it's a shitty chapter with almost 2,000 words! Making my way up int he world fellas. Also again this fan fic is an outlet for myself so you know**

 **and depression naps are a thing. And also I apologize for any mistakes - it's 5:52 in the morning here my guys.**

* * *

" _... trauma is just a word you haven't learned to spell yet." - Caitlyn Siehl_

…

" _Dear mom,"_ Bella writes, " _I miss you,"_ She hesitates, ink bleeding into the fibers of the paper. " _I hope you're doing okay, wherever you are… if you are somewhere."_ she groans, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. Brown eyes glance outside. The night is so dark she can hear it humming. The clock reads 3:30 - but she's not sure which one it is. " _I miss you,"_ She writes again, crosses it out, a tear makes the ink smear. " _It's funny. The one thing about trauma is funny because it never stops. It's a wound waiting to reopen."_

…

" _Dear mom,"_ She tries to write again, hours later, " _That's what you wanted though, isn't it?"_

…

"Hey! How are you today?" Angela walks up up to her truck, smiles wide and as bright as a star.

"Not as well as you, obviously." Bella chuckles at her softly. "What's going on?"

"Sorry." Angela tries to somber her look but a smirk tugs at her corner of glossed lips.

"No, no, please don't apologize for being happy." Bella smiles back at her, covering her eyes from the rain. "I'm very happy to see a smile there today. I was just curious what put it there."

"I was asked to prom!" Angela has to stop herself from screaming in excitement, has to stop herself from showing too much of her teeth.

"Oh my god! That's so cool! Who asked?"

"It was Ben. He's such a cutie." A faint blush comes to the apples of her cheeks, and she stops speaking abruptly, as though she couldn't believe she said that.

"He's in our English class right?" Bella ponders, side stepping a puddle. "Anyway, I'm super, super happy for you, Angela."

"Are you planning on going to prom?" Angela talks quieter now that they're inside.

The word "prom" hurts Bella in a lot of ways. She thinks about the prom she attended with the pretty redhead with green eyes and freckles who wore a teal dress and didn't give a fuck.

She also thinks about how she caught her in the corner locking lips with a Senior who went to the neighboring High School.

She flushes in embarrassment thinking about it and shakes her head. "No, most likely not."

"Oh. That's a little sad." And that's the end of the conversation as they part ways. "Have a good class period! I'll see you at Lunch!"

…

Bella tries not to take much stock in the chair that stood empty next to her in Art. The bell hasn't rung yet but still…

A certain darkness creeps up her back when she thinks about the last time the Cullens weren't at school.

She could have sworn she saw that stupid Volvo though…

"Hey," A cool hand touches her shoulder, a warm voice floods her. "Hey, how are you today?" It's Rosalie with glossy lips and a collared shirt that had a few buttons missing from the top. She tries not to stare.

"I'm doing just fine. How are you?" Bella tries to smile, fails at it.

Rosalie brushes back a strand of her hair that was caught in the lip gloss she had on and Bella tries not to gasp at the action. "I'm glad you're doing ok. And I'm doing fine." She's still speaking quietly. "I came here to say -" The warning bell cuts her off. "I came in here to say that Alice is sick today, and she says she's sorry that she couldn't be here."

Bella nods, not absorbing any information Rosalie was telling her. Instead, she was trying not to stare at the skin hiding under the cotton shirt she was wearing.

"Bella? Are you listening?" Rosalie's concerned voice calls out to her.

"Uh." Bella shakes her head. "Yes. Yeah sorry. Alice is sick." She glances up at the clock. "You have a minute to get to class."

Rosalie smirks a little, eyeing the pink on the human's cheeks. "Don't worry. I have a free period."

"Mm." Bella keeps her eyes trained on the ground in order to stop herself from looking upon the blonde beauty in front of her. _God, what's wrong with me?_

She feels a cool touch on her knee and Bella tries to breathe evenly. Rosalie continues on. " Esme was wondering if you'd like to come over today."

"I- I uh don't t-think I'll be able to. I h-have a lot of - you know - homework." Comes Bella's stuttered reply.

Bella really, truthfully, does have homework that she _should_ do. She won't though, and she knows so after the words spill out of her mouth.

"Oh right, we have that essay on the Scarlet Letter. Ugh like I haven't done that a million times before." The last part was muttered quietly, almost like it wasn't for Bella's ears.

"Have you written many of those before?"

Rosalie looks at her with a mix of surprise and… something else. She opens her mouth to reply but the bell goes off, signaling the tardy bell. A self satisfied smirk and the scent that Bella has come to recognize as Rosalie is all that's left in the empty chair. Bella considers all the ways she can throw herself off of a cliff and have it look like an accident.

…

In her speech and debate class, she hears the end of a conversation. "People who commit suicide are selfish."

The visceral reaction she has to this is sudden. Her breathing turns shallow, lungs bleeding clots into her mouth.

" _No."_ She wants to say. " _No, no, you can't shove suicide into black and white categories. Not when it's such a complex issue."_ She scratches her nails into the grooves between the puffed up wounds from previous nights. " _No,"_ She wants to move her mouth, to speak up, but she's stuck staring the corner of the room. White fills her vision. " _People who commit suicide are in pain. They think it's their only option. Perhaps you shouldn't talk about what you know nothing about._ "

Her fingers start to numb, visions blurs, gums start to ache because of the pressure of her teeth.

She barely registers the bell ringing, the thud of her feet walking. Her hair runs slick with water as she walks outside. She can't breathe.

She slams into something so hard that it almost sends her flying to the ground, but frosty hands catch her before she does.

Bella glances up into the eyes of Edward Cullen. His mouth churns with hidden anger but still, he manages to speak. "You're skipping class."

She watches as his eyes swirl black. "Yes, and so are you."

He lets her go and hands her the keys she dropped mid-fall. "Why are you skipping class?"

"I'm going home."

"Are you doing ok?"

"Nope!"

Edward closes his eyes, dark brows furrowed. "Fair enough." He moves out of the way. "Drive safely, please."

It's all she can do to not sprint to her truck.

…

Charlie is home when Bella walks into the door.

"Hey," Charlie gruffs, and Bells freezes in shock. "You're home early."

"S-so are you. You weren't supposed to be out until next week… I was going to throw you a party." Bella mumbles this last part under her breath, kicking his shoes out of the doorway.

Charlie shrugs, reaches for the bottle of beer on the coffee table, sighing when a team scored a touchdown. "I healed well. And I promised I'd take it easy." He gestures to the TV. "Not that that's going to be a challenge."

Bella watches the beer and decides not to say anything. "I can make lunch."

"Mm, no, that's okay. But thank you."

Stilted. Short. Cold. Maybe one day she will be able to have a conversation with her father without Bella feeling as though blood is dripping off of her back.

Charlie shifts uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the air, probably. "Why are you home?"

Bella's eyes well up with tears she tries not to shed. She's so, so tired. "I had a bad day."

There's a silence before Charlie stutters "D-do you want to talk about it?"

Bella looks at a knife, looks at the way the edge catches the light and clenches her hands into a fist. "No, just stupid teenager stuff."

"You're a tough cookie, Bells." He scratches his head, careful to avoid his wound. "I can always arrest them."

"Oh, please." Bella goes to walk upstairs, fatigue wearing down her eyes. "The whole town knows you were shot. They'd punch you and run."

…

Bella settles in bed, shuts off the too bright lamp and closes her eyes with every intent to take a nap.

Her phone buzzes.

Groaning, she lifts herself up and takes a look. It's a number she doesn't recognize but the text reads " _Hey! It's Alice. Angela gave me your number and I just wanted to make sure that you weren't trying to nap or anything. You have math and that essay to write! See you later!"_

Bella stares open mouthed in complete shock. "Are you fucking serious?" She groans again, this time it's one that makes her throat sore.

Her phone buzzes once more. " _I will send Rosalie over there to help you out if need be!"_

It's typed out like a helpful message, but Bella can read between the lines and recognizes a threat when she sees one. "What the fuck!"

Still, she gets up, pulls out her math book and gets to work.

. . .

"What did you end up picking for your theme regarding the essay?"

"Uh," Bella starts off, reaching for the eraser that Alice took over to her side of the table. "I picked themes of nature and light."

"That's interesting." Alice mumbles, focused on drawing a straight line.

"And yours?"

"Oh, just about love."

Intrigued with how Alice sticks her tongue out of her mouth when she draws, Bella asks "And what did you say about it?"

"Oh, I haven't even started writing it yet." Alice looks over to Bella's drawing and pouts. "How is it possible that you're so much better than me?"

Flushing, Bella stutters out a lame excuse, mumbles behind her hand. "Also, weren't you pestering me about doing my homework yesterday?"

"Yeah, but I don't take four hour depression naps and I actually do homework."

"Oh my fucking god!"

"Well, it's true! And don't act all offended! It's not like you don't straight up sleep instead of nap."

"Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it, Alice." Bella reaches for a liner, glaring at Alice in the same motion. "I also cannot believe you threatened to send Rosalie to kick my ass, too! You're such a fucker when you're sick!"

Mocking irritation, Bella fights the smile that comes when Alice lets out a bell of laughter.

Things are ok. Things are ok.

…

Things are not ok.


End file.
